A Reality Unknown
by RadCherishIsEve
Summary: Ariadne is on a quest to find out who her real parents are. But the truth may be more than she can handle. Cover by Ro Nordmann (ro-little-shop-of-wonders).
1. The Gifts

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I don't own Little Red Riding Hood by Brothers Grimm, either. Just some original characters.**

**Hi, everyone! Welcome to my new story! This one is based on my ultimate favorite fairy tale, Little Red Riding Hood. There's really just something about that story. I've always wanted to make a fic that is sort of a re-imagining of fairy tales but I never figures out how. When I started watch OUAT last year, the inspiration continued but I could never find the **_**right **_**one. But then I saw this art of Arthur and Ariadne as Red and the wolf and it just hit me. I'm sure you've all seen it but it's posted in my profile if you're not familiar with it.**

**So this is my take of the Little Red Riding Hood story featuring Inception characters. This is also my first take in being a fantasy/mystery writer of some sort. I hope you all enjoy it. It won't be updated on a regular weekly basis like Twenty Steps but I can assure updates two to three times a month. I hope it doesn't discourage you. We all know how university is. :(**

**Anyways, this is beta'd by me so all mistakes are mine and I apologize for them. Now, on with the story!**

**HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!**

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><p><span><strong>The Gifts<strong>

"Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have given to the child." –Little Red Riding Hood (Brothers Grimm, 1697)

_Giving birth to a baby is always an exciting moment in life. In a village in the forest, a young lady is giving birth to a baby girl. Everyone in the village knows about it. It's a small place, everyone knows everyone and everyone's business is everyone's business. About half of the villagers are standing outside the house. Some are excited, some are frightened._

"_Just a little more! Keep pushing! The baby's almost out!"_

_The lady on the bed screams as she tries to release her child. There are people around her who are tending to her needs, wiping her face with cloth and giving words of encouragement. Her husband is sitting quietly beside her. _

"_Just a little more," one says as they start to hear the baby crying, "you hear her? You hear your baby girl?"_

_The woman giving birth smiles a little. "Yes, yes, I can hear her." She starts to scream again and the midwife continues to encourage her to push. "I can't!"_

"_Yes you can," someone else says. "Yes you can. You're almost there."_

_In just a few minutes, the midwife raises the baby a little to show the woman that everything is okay. "Here's your baby girl," she says, smiling. "She's beautiful," she comments, "she looks just like you. Let me just cut the umbilical cord. You'll have her in a while."_

"_No!" the lady screams. "No! Give her to me now!"_

"_Madam, the baby could get sick if I give her to you," the midwife reasons. "Just give me a minute or two and she's all yours." _

_The lady lays on her bed, exhausted but alert. '_They can't get to her. They can't. She's mine._' She hears people outside and immediately she sits up to check on what's happening. Suddenly, the door bursts open and in come people with black hoods over their faces. "No! Give her to me, Mary!"_

_Mary, the midwife, clutches the baby tightly to her. The umbilical cord is still intact and she's shaking in fear. One of the hooded people comes closer to her and they separate the young from her mother. In one swift motion, the crying baby girl is in their hands._

_The woman screams and tries to stand but her legs are too weak and her body is still heavy and tired from the energy she spent giving birth. Groaning and trying to stop her head from spinning, she shouts, "You can't keep her away from me!"_

_The man beside her holds onto her shoulders and forces her to lean back. "You have to let her go. It's too dangerous for all of us."_

"_You can't just throw her out like an animal!" the woman screams. "She's my daughter!"_

"_We are not going to throw her out," one of the hooded villagers say, "she will endanger the world."_

_The woman glares at them. Tears that run down her eyes makes her vision blur. She had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl...a baby whose fate is still unknown. "You promised not to get her until her twentieth birthday."_

_One of them gives off a sound that is similar to a laugh. "That will be harder. We are smart human beings. We know you'll run away and hide her. It's best to take her while you're weak." He then turns to the husband and barks at him, "You're a pathetic husband, a pathetic father! Selling out your daughter as soon as you can. It's very pathetic."_

_His wife turns to him in shock. "What?"_

"_Don't talk to me that way!" the man stands up and points a finger accusingly at them. "I tried my best to keep everyone safe!"_

"_You haven't even told your wife!" one of them says. "I can certainly see how this marriage is going to go. Tell me, what else have you not told her? Did you tell her about the curse?"_

"_I…I just told her that you would be taking our daughter."_

"_What curse?" his wife asks. "What curse are you talking about? Why haven't you told me why they'll take her?"_

_Her husband looks down at her. "There are risks."_

"_I don't care!" his wife shouts. "Just a few days ago, you tell me that they'll take her. You didn't tell me that you sold her out. Why? Why are they taking her? Why are you the one selling her out?"_

"_Cassandra, listen to me. I'll explain everything soon but you need to calm down."_

"_Calm down!? Calm down!? Are you crazy!?"_

"_Enough!" One of the hooded people raises their arms. "We are taking the baby. I'm sorry but it has to be done. We cannot allow her to stay in our village."_

"_So what will you do to her?" the mother asks, short of breath. '_Do I want to know what they'll do to my baby?_'_

"_What has to be done." And with that, they leave the house with the crying girl in their arms. Everyone inside except the husband and wife seems to have frozen, confused as to what happened. "I...I…" the midwife stutters, "sir...how could you!?"_

"_I don't know what else to do. They would have killed me, too."_

_The mother sobs loudly. "I never got to hold her!"_

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><p>Uncle Dom once told me that they chose this neighborhood because it's quiet and people rarely move in because of its distance from the city. It isn't in the middle of nowhere, there are neighbors here and there, and even a small park but it's a place where people don't really have to pass through to get somewhere. Everyone here pretty much knows everyone.<p>

So imagine my surprise when James and Phillipa start jumping on my bed because 1) it's my birthday and 2) there's a strange transportation in the front yard and no one else is awake to look at it with them. And I really can't say no to them, it's a crime for me to do so. But it's early. Too early to be awake on a Saturday morning, whether it be my birthday or not.

"What's that car doing there, Ariadne?" the little boy asks me as we look out the window. A yellow electric truck is parked right in front of our house, and me and my adoptive siblings are trying to figure out why it's there. "Maybe your birthday gift is inside it!"

I laugh. "I dou—don't think so, James. I'm too old for big surprises."

"Why not?" Phillipa asks me. "I think everyone deserves big surprises on their birthday."

"Because Aunt Mal and Uncle Dom have the two of you to spoil now," I tell them. "And besides, that truck has nothing to do with my birthday. We're having new neighbors." Despite being legally adopted after so many trials—due to me being left on the doorsteps—I still call my adoptive parents Uncle and Auntie. It started when Phillipa was born. I love my parents, I really do, but when I heard Aunt Mal jumping for joy when Phillipa said her first word, I immediately felt like a trespasser. There was an argument about this, Uncle Dom and Aunt Mal insisted that I continue to call them Mom and Dad but I just couldn't. It didn't feel right to me.

James and Phillipa's grins widen and they immediately start jumping around. "I love having new neighbors!" Phillipa exclaims. "Maybe they'll have a little girl who can play with me and Maddy!" James, as hard as he tries, cannot see anything past the yellow truck so I pick him up and rest him on my hip.

A kiss is suddenly placed on my temple and another person greets me "Happy Birthday". I turn around and smile at my parents. "Thank you," I say. Uncle Dom engulfs me and James in a hug while Aunt Mal leans her forehead on my temple, carefully stroking my hair.

"I can't believe you're already two decades old," Uncle Dom murmurs. Phillipa must have sensed that she's missing out so she hugs me from behind. Uncle Dom chuckles and pats her head.

"Yes I can," I answer, "but you still won't allow me to live in my own apartment."

Aunt Mal smiles. "You don't need it. Your college is just a few minutes away. You make your own money. There's nothing wrong with parents who want their daughter with them. Are you embarrassed?"

'_Sometimes,' _I think. But I shake my head. "No. I don't want to be separated from any of you anyways."

After a few more minutes, we all let go and Uncle Dom walks forward to look out the window. "What's all the fuss about?" he asks. "I don't see any calamities happening."

"We're going to have a new neighbor!" Phillipa announces. "Can we go and meet them?"

Aunt Mal smiles. "Of course. Maybe we can go to them this afternoon, bring them some cake as a welcome greeting. I heard they're lovely people." Her eyes move to the window. "Oh, look, there's one of them right now."

One of our new neighbors is a dark-haired man in his twenties. He's handsome. Very handsome. He's also wearing a suit. It's weird, who wears a suit when they're just moving in? He's carrying two boxes in each arm. Another one appears from inside the house and they begin to talk. At one point, the suited man frowns and continues walking inside the house. The other one is a larger man and definitely more handsome. He looks English and much happier.

"Are they brothers?" I ask. It's already hard to believe that they're related.

Uncle Dom shakes his head. "The real estate agent said that they're just roommates needing bigger space and a place closer to their jobs."

Aunt Mal chuckles. "Still can't believe that someone was able to sell that old haunted house."

That house beside us always had a 'For Sale' sign. Everyone believed it to be haunted. And maybe once or twice I've seen something but never anything serious. James and Phillipa have always been convinced that something's wrong with it. They claim to have seen something watching them, mostly watching me, and that we should move away. But maybe the prospect of new neighbors excites them too much and they've forgotten all about the creepy crawlies that plague their mind.

"So there are no children?" Phillipa asks sadly.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I don't think so," Aunt Mal answers.

She shrugs. "Maddy and I can still play even with just the two of us. It's alright." When she looks out again, she gives a startled gasp.

"What's wrong?" Uncle Dom asks.

We all look up and see one of the men, the English looking one, smiling and waving at us. "We've been caught," Phillipa says in a dramatic whisper. James giggles and waves back enthusiastically, earning a "scolding" from his older sister. "James, stop that!"

"Why?" he asks. "I want to be his friend."

I smile and kiss his cheek. "Yeah, Phillipa, let's all be nice and friendly neighbors to the two good-looking gentlemen who had just arrived," I tease.

She looks away and runs toward the kitchen. "I want cake now!"

Uncle Dom, Aunt Mal and I laugh and follow her to kitchen. James is still on my hip, constantly looking back out the window. "Can we go to them now?" he asks.

"Not yet, sweetheart," Aunt Mal says, "first we have to sing to your sister and have our own share of food, okay?"

"When are Grandpa and Grandma coming down?" Phillipa asks.

"I'll go call them," Uncle Dom says and jogs upstairs.

The remaining of us settle in the dining table. Aunt Mal has already prepared it and we're just waiting for everyone else to arrive. Since it's my birthday I'm allowed to sit at the head of the table. Phillipa, James and I are wearing party hats, sort of a tradition that we like to do. My cake is white with marshmallow frosting, one of Aunt Mal's special recipes.

Grandpa and Grandma come down with Uncle Dom and apologize for their tardiness. I dismiss it and joke, "Just as long as you all got me presents."

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><p>When I was five, my grandmother read to me the story of Little Red Riding Hood. I loved her. She was this strong and courageous—well, in a little girl's eyes—little girl walking in the forest alone. Talking to this big bad wolf as if it were nothing. I was a shy little girl then and I admired her for her talkativeness.<p>

When I was eight, my mother made me a red cloak, let me borrow a woven basket, and asked a seamstress to sew me Red's dress. Ever since then, I've been going as Red for years, even when Phillipa and James were born, I never missed out on the opportunity to dress up as my hero—and yes, I keep it very modest.

When I was twelve, I realized that there are many renditions of it. But my favorite is always going to be the one with the happy ending. The one where the hunter killed the wolf before Red could be eaten and freed the grandmother. I couldn't stand knowing my favorite character would be eaten.

When I was eighteen, people expected me to dress up as her once more and say goodbye to my childhood. Last year I surprised them by continuing my tradition. Until James and Phillipa are too tired of this, I will never stop. And hey, maybe by that time I'll have my own children who'd want to go trick-or-treating.

Now, on my twentieth birthday, my parents have just given me a new red jacket—I have to say that I'm a little disappointed it isn't a brand new cloak...okay, I got that two years ago and it still fits—and a bag filled with my belongings from when they found me. "What's this?" I ask dumbly as I scan the contents of the tearing black backpack. There's nothing inside except two red cloaks. Convenient, I supposed this is where my love for Little Red Riding Hood came from.

Aunt Mal smiles at me warily. "We can't keep it from you any longer."

But I know I'm adopted. It's not a secret. I can pass for Aunt Mal's legit daughter, but really, I'm not in denial or anything. "I...I know that I'm adopted."

Uncle Dom joins in. "We mean that we can't keep what you had any longer. You should at least have something that your parents left you with."

"Oh," is all I say. I never said it out loud but a part of me is pretty mad and resentful of my parents for leaving me Harry Potter-style. "I guess it doesn't hurt to have it." I look at the small red cloak and then at the bigger one that's with it.

"You were wrapped in that small cloak," Aunt Mal says fondly. "I still remember when I heard you crying."

I nod slowly and inspect the bag once more. "This is an interesting gift." I put it down beside me and James and Phillipa immediately rummage inside it.

"Maybe there's money inside!" the young girl exclaims. "That's always in the fairy tales I watch. Or maybe some sort of letter that Mommy and Daddy are hiding from you so that you wouldn't know where to find them since Mommy and Daddy love you so much!."

I laugh at that. "I don't think so, Phillipa. And besides, remember that time I tried to look for my parents? They're both dead. So even if there was a letter, it'd be useless."

"Can I have that other cloak, Ari? I think it'll fit me, I can be like Superman!" James says.

He frowns but Aunt Mal scolds him. "It's a remembrance from her parents, sweetheart. It's not something we can keep."

"But it's _Ari's_. She has to be the one to tell me if I can have it or not," he argues. "Can I have it, Ari?"

My smile for him is a sad one. This is probably the first time I'll refuse him of anything except anything that has to do with their health. "I'm so sorry, James, but I want to keep it." His frown becomes deeper and it makes me feel bad.

"James," Uncle Dom says in a warning tone, "it's your sister's."

"We could share it," I offer. "Or if you wanna play Superman then just tell me and I'll lend it to you. You know I'd rather be Shadowcat anyway," I laugh. He gives me a smile and a short giggle before returning to his waffles.

Grandpa Stephen chuckles. "You know that Jacqueline will gladly make a costume for you, James."

"Do you want to be Superman again for Halloween, James? I can start on it soon," Grandma Jackie says.

He starts to smile again and sits up properly on his seat. "I want to be Captain America this year, Grandma!"

She chuckles. "Tricky. But okay, just don't change your mind anymore."

I look at the backpack and I carry it again for a moment before setting it down on the counter table. _'I'll have a look at you again later.'_ I sit back down on the table and Aunt Mal hands me a plate with a piece of cake. "Thank you." She rubs my shoulder and gives my temple a kiss.

"Hey, Ari," Phillipa calls me.

"Mm?" I smile at her.

"This is just…just…a hippo…hippothet…hippotetcal question."

"Hypothetical," Uncle Dom corrects.

"Hypo-the-tical question," she repeats. "If you found out that your parents aren't really dead…are you going to try looking for your real family? I've seen it in many television shows and movies. And sometimes, when they do find them, they would rather stay with the real family. I don't want you to leave us." She frowns. "

I smile at her. "You've been watching too much television shows and movies, Phillipa. But I'm not going to leave you."

"But will you look for them?" she continues. "You know, if they're not really dead."

Without thinking, and probably because I'm a little angry and the Cobbs have been great to me, I say, "No, of course not. I'm very happy to be here. I wouldn't have it any other way."

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><p>"<em>You were being selfish. But we have to find her," the woman says. "We have to find her! They said they wouldn't just throw her out! There's a possibility that she's still alive! We have to go find her! She could still be alive! I can still hold her!" Her eyes begin to water and she starts to sob and sink down on the floor. It's only been a few hours since she had given birth to her baby. "What if she's cold? What if she's hungry?"<em>

_Her husband holds onto her hands. "Sh, sh, stop it. We can't. The elders will kick us out."_

_She screams and hits his chest. "You care about that!? Our daughter has just been taken and all you care about is that the elders will kick us out?"_

"_We can try for another baby. We can have a boy this time."_

"_You're a monster!" she cries. "You should have told me! You should have told me!"_

"_You wouldn't be with me if I told you!" he argues._

_She glares at him. All their time together was a lie. Every moment she spent with him…wasted. She wanted a family and a husband. Why didn't she know about this? Why didn't anyone tell her? Why didn't anyone warn her? She should never have gone to this village. She should never had left home. "I hate you. I hate you so much!" She grabs her bag from under the bed and starts to pack her belongings inside. "Don't try to stop me. You have no right to do so. I'm leaving and you are _not_ to follow me."_

"_You have to understand—"_

"_Understand!?" she shouts. "Understand that you would give up your own daughter's life!? A newborn baby you haven't held in your arms! A baby who doesn't know how horrible this world is!"_

"_I couldn't hold her," he starts to say, "because I would've changed my mind about giving her to them. I knew that if I held her…I wouldn't be able to let go. You have to understand that this is the sake of our world. We'll have another child, we'll have one—"_

"_I would like to say that this is your fault," she tells him._

"_My fault!? I'm not the one who decided to leave her home to stay in the village!"_

"_You could have told me about who you really are and we could have left before we got married!"_

_Her husband frowns. "They would've kept tabs on us, either way, Cassandra. They would've taken our daughter. We would never have been able to run away."_

"_You are so pessimistic! You aren't the one who kept her healthy inside your womb for nine months because you wanted to hold her and be with her and see her because you love her! I love my daughter! And no one, not even you, will keep her away from me!" She continues to put more of her belongings inside and zips it up. "I can't imagine a life without her. I will find her. And whether you help me or not…I don't care."_

"_Cassandra."_

"_Goodbye."_

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><p>"How do you feel about having dinner out tonight?" Uncle Dom asks me. It's rare for us to eat out, usually only for special occasions. "I can make reservations in Fridays."<p>

I smile. "You hit the spot right there. Sure, why not?"

He chuckles and is about to close the door of my room when he spots me with the backpack. "Do you think we should have given it to you when you were younger?"

I shake my head. "No, I think now is a good time. I don't see anything sentimental here." I hold up the larger red cloak that came along with the black backpack. "It's…long. It's like it was made for a little girl…it wasn't made for a baby."

"You were wrapped in that other cloak," he says as he walks in, "they must have left the other cloak as some sort of remembrance."

"Not even a picture of them," I scoff. "Now how would I know who I take after."

"You know you look a little like Mallorie." Uncle Dom sits on my bed and strokes my hair. _'But not nearly as beautiful,' _I want to add. He rubs my temple softly. "Are you planning on looking for them again?"

I shake my head. "They're dead, remember? At least…that's what I found a few years ago."

"We're not going to stop you if you want to try again," he says. "You don't have to keep your promise to Phillipa and James. You're your own person. Technology is much better now. I'm sure you and your college mind can figure out some more information."

"It's like you want me to leave, Uncle Dom," I laugh.

"I just want you to know that we aren't trying to keep you from finding out the truth about who you really are. Everyone wants to know who they really are, Ari."

"I know who I am," I say, "I'm your daughter. I'm a Cobb."

Uncle Dom smiles and kisses my forehead. "Yes, yes you are." He stands and begins to leave the room. "We'll be welcoming our new neighbors, do you want to come?"

I nod. "Sure. Let me just get ready."

He groans. "Don't tell me you have a crush on one of them, too?"

"They aren't my type," I tell him, rolling my eyes. "And don't worry about Phillipa, like you said, it's just a crush. He's much too old for her anyways." _And looks like a trouble maker._ "Meet you downstairs."

I hear him close the door and I have one last look at the bag before standing to head to my closet. When my eyes land on my window, I see one of the new neighbors looking out his window, looking at me. You see, my window has a direct view of the house that has recently just been occupied, and it seems that it's now in direct view of the handsome man in a suit's room as well.

He seems to have noticed me looking back at him. He gives a slight nod and closes his curtains that look as if it's made with the finest silk. Can you believe that? My room has curtains made from cotton but it's also being covered by blinds. And, they've recently moved in and one of the first things he does is to put curtains?

I wonder what else he has in store for me to see in that room of his.

"Once she gave her a little riding hood of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else; so she was always called 'Little Red Riding Hood.'" –Little Red Riding Hood (Brothers Grimm, 1697)

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><p><strong>And there's the first chapter, everyone! I hope it interests you and that you're looking forward to more. Things will become better, I promise. I suck at first chapters but we'll get somewhere. :] Again, I'm not sure when I can update again but expect one sometime next week. Please leave me your thoughts! I'd love to know what you think. Questions, suggestions, constructive criticism are all welcome! Again, I've posted another story with this, a crossover with The Hunger Games, check it out if you'd like. <strong>

**Happy Holidays everyone! (Psst, reviews count as Christmas gifts since I have none under the tree.) ****Eight more days until I turn 19...**


	2. The Neighbors

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**So, I told myself and everyone that I should stop writing because everything sucks and I have no idea what I'm doing and…you know, stuff. But I've been conversing with people online and I had dinner in Mary Grace and unexpectedly sat in the same table as where I had imagined Arthur and Ariadne sitting in, and also overheard from a table away from me "Even if no one reads what I write, my mind is awesome and I'm the only one who can fucking tell it properly because it's mine." I think that was my angel.**

**Sorry no review replies in this chapter, my head cannot process the good feeling. But thank you so much to those who have read, reviewed and followed! And to neverlandspirit for the encouragement. :] This is unbeta'd unless you count me.**

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><p><span><strong>The Neighbors<strong>

"Why are we bringing them wine?" I ask as I look at the Johnnie Walker I'm holding. "I'm pretty sure moving into a new—haunted—house isn't worth celebrating."

"What's wrong with giving them wine?" Uncle Dom asks as he helps Aunt Mal put in some fruits inside a basket. "They look like wine-men."

I raise an eyebrow. "Wine-men," I repeat, "really, Uncle? They look like weird men."

Aunt Mal giggles. "What have you got against them?"

"One of them is a Peeping Tom," I say.

"What's that?" Phillipa asks me.

I shake my head. "Nothing, don't mind it, Phil." As my parents pack the food, I keep thinking back to the man who was looking out his window. Honestly, he's very _very_ attractive and if I allow my very inner self to have a say in this then I wouldn't mind seeing him looking out his window at me again but it's also a _very_ creepy, we aren't friends. And he doesn't look like he's any fun.

James tugs on my shirt. "Ari, can you ask the man's name? The one who waved at us? I want to be his friend."

"Why don't you ask him himself?" I smile.

He giggles and buries his head in my leg. "I'm shy."

Laughing, I put the wine on the table and then carry him. "You're adorable, you know that." He giggles when I give him an Eskimo kiss. "We'll both ask him. He seems like a nice guy, I'm sure he won't den—say no to the friendship you're offering him."

He tilts his head and looks up then nods. "Hmm…okay!"

Phillipa is sitting on one the dining table chairs, swinging her legs and watching Uncle Dom and Aunt Mal pack the basket of fruits. "Phillipa, would you like to bring the cake?" Aunt Mal asks. "Or maybe you and James can carry the basket together."

She shakes her head. "I don't want to go.

Uncle Dom raises an eyebrow. "And why not?"

"I…I…" she stammers, "I'm tired. I'm just going to watch you from the window." She raises her head.

Aunt Mal chuckles. "Okay, if you say so, sweetheart. Just promise me to be a good girl, okay?"

"Why don't you go help Grandma with her sewing or Grandpa with his crossword puzzles?" Uncle Dom suggests.

Phillipa makes a face. "I never understand how Grandpa answers them, I'll go help Grandma." She jumps off the chair and dashes upstairs. "Grandma! I'll be your assistant again today!"

Aunt Mal smiles. "How cute, it's her first crush."

"It isn't cute," Uncle Dom mutters, "do you remember when Ariadne had her first crush?"

I roll my eyes. "I was much younger than Phillipa when I had my first crush. At least she isn't going to school and giving him her lunch and snacks."

James frowns. "Why would you want to give anyone the lunch and snacks Mommy made for you?"

I give him a kiss on his cheek. "I wasn't being very smart, James. You shouldn't do that, okay? Don't give anyone your lunch and snacks, okay?"

He nods. "Okay."

Uncle Dom shakes his head. "And her first crush is a much older man who lives right beside us. Is that bad?"

Aunt Mal chuckles. "You worry too much, Dom. I think Phillipa is smart enough to know what's right and wrong. Besides, our neighbors seem like they're the type to keep to themselves."

"This neighborhood is like that," I say, "but when something catches their ears, there's a riot."

"Gossip is gossip," Uncle Dom says, laughing. He and Aunt al look at the basket again. "Are we ready to take this to them?"

Aunt Mal nods. "I think so. Let me just cut the cake and we'll be on our way."

She disappears inside the kitchen and I put James down. "Just hold my hand while we go there, okay? I have to bring the wine."

"Can you carry me again when you're not carrying the wine anymore?" he asks. "I want to be as big as the friendly man."

"I'm a short girl," I chuckle, "I don't think I'm as tall as him so you won't be as tall as him either." He frowns. I sigh. "But yes, I will carry you." He smiles again.

Aunt Mal returns and we all head to the neighboring house. It's only a few strides and we get there in no time. James declares that he wants to ring the bell so we remind him that he's only allowed to ring it once before allowing him to do so.

Footsteps can be heard and one loudly exclaims, "Our first visitors!" When the door swings open, the "friendly man", as James calls him, is the one who greets us. "Oh, hello there," he says with a grin. I can't deny how good looking he is, he's very handsome. His English accents also adds to his aura. "Do what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Hi!" James says.

"Hello, little handsome man. I recognize you from this morning." The man bends down to accommodate James's height. "I'm Eames, and you are?"

"I'm James!" he replies. "You have a funny name."

He shrugs and winks. "I'm a funny man." He stands up once again and greets us. "What a charming family. I'm Adam Eames, but please, I find my first name atrocious. It doesn't suit me at all." He eyes me and grins. "Lovely lady, you don't know how happy I am to have you as my first visitor."

I blush a little. "Uh...hi."

Uncle Dom clears his throat. "Mr. Eames—"

"No, no, no," he cuts, "just Eames will do, please."

"Eames," Uncle Dom corrects himself, "we're your next door neighbors and we'd just like to give you a welcome greeting." He holds up the basket.

"Wonderful!" Eames grins. "Please, come in, come in." He gestures for us to come and opens the door wider. "Living room is that way," he points to the first room on the right, "and is that cake and wine I see?"

Aunt Mal smiles. "Yes."

Eames smiles back. "But we've got a little one with us," he pats James's head, "looks like we'll just be having cake."

"Oh no, please, it's yours, we've got plenty more at home."

"If you insist. But please, have a seat, let me just go and prepare some tea and would you like apple juice, little guy?"

James nods. "Yes, please."

Eames smiles and takes our gifts. "Make yourselves at home. I'll be right back." While he leaves, he shouts, "Arthur! Get your a—butt down here, you little wa—man! We've got guests and you have to make a good impression!"

"I'm coming!" someone, probably Arthur, the housemate/peeper of my room, shouts from upstairs.

"Have fun," Eames snickers as he disappears.

I turn to look at James beside me and he's just admiring the room around us. Thank God he doesn't know anything dirty yet. "I think Phillipa's just scared of coming here because this place is haunted. That makes me much braver than her!"

Aunt Mal pats his head. "I think she decided not to come for her own reasons, sweetheart. I don't think it's because this place is haunted."

Another set of footsteps are heard from upstairs and as they descend, I feel my heart beat a little faster. I've only seen him probably two to three times but now that I'm about to see him up close and personal...it makes me nervous. When he reaches the floor, I take a quick look at him. Tall, dark, and dangerously handsome. One quick glance at us and he looks the other way. "Eames?" he calls.

"In the kitchen, Darling. Entertain our guests for now, will you? I'm still looking for our tray." The other man doesn't walk towards us, he heads to the back, where Eames had disappeared. "Don't you ever listen to me?"

Minutes later, Eames is carrying a silver tray filled with cups and tea strings and a glass of apple juice for James. His housemate follows him from behind. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Arthur was being rude..._again_."

Arthur glares at him. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good with people."

"You're not very good in many things that involves society except knowing about them through research," Eames retorts. He shrugs and sits on the recliner while Arthur sits on the couch in front of us. "This is my rude housemate, Arthur Brandon."

"Hello," Aunt Mal greets as James waves. He only gives a nod of acknowledgement. Our eyes meet and I look away. He should be the one ashamed, he's the one who was caught.

"Arthur these are our lovely next door neighbors, I hope you'll be good to them," Eames says with a smirk. He then turns to us. "I'm sorry, I never got any of your names except for James's."

"I'm Dominic Cobb, my wife, Mallorie," he squeezes her hand and looks at her, "our son James," he pats the boy on my lap, "and our daughter, Ariadne," he squeezes my shoulder.

"We live with my father and mother. Our other daughter, Phillipa, is too shy to come over." Aunt Mal chuckles.

"Ah, that little girl with you this morning, yes I remember her." Eames smiles. "She is as beautiful as her mother. But," he turns to me, "I believe you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life."

I raise an eyebrow. "I have a feeling you say that a lot."

He laughs. "Perceptive. But I'm being extremely honest, Ariadne. Did I say that right?" I nod. "You are truly beautiful. It's no wonder Arthur was—"

"You have to excuse my...friend," Arthur cuts with an icy glare at the other man, "he can be a very annoying bas—person."

"I can already tell," I hear Uncle Dom mutter and I stifle a laugh. "So tell us," he starts, "what made you two decide to move to Stonerose?"

"We both work for Avalanche Corp., I was in the home base while Eames worked in Wall Street. Then he was transferred to the home base and we became partners of some sort," Arthur replies, "but we were both transferred to the one across town. He's the one who's bad luck."

"Darling, you know your father wanted you to transfer to have some more experience," Eames says and then turns to us, "he's Marvin Brandon's son, you see."

Aunt Mal gasps. "Oh, I see!"

"It's not a big deal," Arthur shrugs, "I'm not the heir, my brother is. I refused a long time ago."

"You're not the air, Mr. Arthur," James says and that earns him giggles from all of us, even Arthur had given him a small smile. "What's so funny?"

I shake my head and give him a squeeze. "Why'd you decide to move here in Cozy Pebble? Why not nearer the office?"

"We both don't like being near people," Arthur replies.

"And we're glad we chose this house," Eames adds, "the view is magnificent." He winks at me.

Arthur clears his throat. "Has your family lived here for a while?"

"I'm originally from Paris," Aunt Mal answers, "my parents and I moved here before I was a teenager so I grew up here. The house we're living in now was one of the first few houses that were built in Cozy Pebble. Dom and I bought it when we first got married."

"It's a lovely house, Mrs. Cobb," Arthur says.

"It's home now. Perhaps you two should drop by and have dinner with us. In fact, are you two busy tonight?"

Arthur is about to answer but is stopped by Eames. "No, Mrs. Cobb, we are not. Why do you ask?"

"It's Ariadne's birthday today," she starts.

"Oh!" Eames grins. "So that's why there's cake! Happy birthday!"

I smile at him. "Thank you."

"How old are you now?" He frowns. "Oh, wait, gentlemen aren't supposed to ask that, you're a lady. Are you at least legal?"

I chuckle at that. "I'm twenty."

"Damn, one more year," he says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry for interrupting, Mrs. Cobb. You were saying?"

"We're having dinner out tonight," Aunt Mal continues, unaffected by the disturbance, "would you like to accompany us?"

"No, thank you," Arthur says just as Eames says, "Yes, please!" Arthur glares at him. Eames raises an eyebrow. "We're quite...busy, at the moment," the more serious one says.

"With what?" Eames asks. "Unpacking? Darling, you know I won't start until tomorrow afternoon. Let's have some fun on our first night out."

"Oh yes, Mr. Arthur, please come," James says, "Fridays has the best food!"

"Yes, please, Mr. Arthur," Eames repeats. "You're not going to break poor James's heart will you? And it's the lovely lady's birthday, don't ruin it, please?"

Arthur purses his lips before agreeing. "Fine."

"Great," Eames smiles, "get that stick-in-the-mud attitude out."

"What's a stick of the mund attude?" James asks.

Eames rubs his jaw. "It's a grown-up expression, Mr. James. Promise me that you won't copy it, okay?"

The blonde boy nods. "Okay."

"The Fridays were going to is the one in Rock Palace, the mall? Do you know your way around the town already?" Uncle Dom asks.

"We've had our fair share of driving around town," Eames replies.

"Yeah, we've passed by it a couple of times already," Arthur adds.

"I made reservations for seven-thirty under Cobb."

"Got it," Eames nods, "is that a double b?"

"C-O-B-B," James supplies.

"Thank you, Mr. James. It seems we'll be having dinner with you tonight. I'll be able to meet your adorable sister and grandparents, isn't that great?"

"I think Phillipa has a crush on you, Mr. Eames," James says, scrunching his nose, "and crushes are icky."

Eames laughs. "Oh, Mr. James, you have a lot to learn."

We finished our drinks and talked some more before Uncle Dom announced that we'd have to leave. "Don't forget, seven-thirty at Fridays at Rock Palace."

"I would never forget," Eames says. "We'll see you later!"

As we head back to our home, Aunt Mal says, "They're quite charming, aren't they? Eames is such a cheery man, I'm very comfortable with him, and he's so good with James," she smiles at the young boy, "and Arthur, oh, mister tall, dark, and handsome. Don't you think so, Ari?"

I blush and nod. "Um...yeah."

"Eames is much more handsome, his accent just adds to it," Aunt Mal continues, "but Arthur...and his suit!"

Ariadne nods without thinking. "Yeah, he really is."

"Eew, Ariadne," James scrunches his nose again, "you have a _crush _on Mr. Arthur."

"I don't, James," I tell him, "I just find him attractive. It doesn't mean anything. But please don't spread it around. It isn't true but I don't want you to say that in front of people, okay?"

He shrugs. "Okay."

We enter the house and I head straight to my room to freshen up. I hear Aunt Mal call Phillipa and our grandparents, probably to remind them to get ready already while Uncle Dom and James are heading towards the bathroom.

I catch sight of the red cloak on my bed. I pick it up and finger the cloth. As I inspect it, and not just look at it like I've been doing since this morning, I see gold trimming on the edges and beautiful flower patterns embroidered on it using cloth that is a darker shade of red, and instead of a ribbon in the middle, it's a gold butterfly that could be separated from the middle with a light pink jewel split into half and could be connected in a puzzle-like form. In front, it only stops until probably around my waist but as it goes to the back it becomes longer.

"Beautiful," I whisper. "Absolutely beautiful."

* * *

><p>"<em>Beautiful," Cassandra whispers. "Absolutely beautiful."<em>

"_Do you like it?" the seamstress asks._

"_It's perfect, thank you very much," the redhead woman says. She takes out her wallet from her bag and gives her the payment. "Thank you so much." __As she heads out the door, she bumps into another woman. "Oh, sorry," she says and looks at the woman in front of her. Her eyes widen a little. "Angelika."_

"_Cassandra," the woman acknowledges. "Didn't I tell you I'd see you again after you fulfill this task?" She gestures at the cloak. "I'm here to help you, remember that."_

"_Can we talk while we we head to my home?"_

"_So you found someone you can finally trust to be with her?" Angelika asks as they start to walk._

"_She's an old friend of mine. I trust her with my life." She smiles. "She's doing really well."_

_Angelika smiles. "Your husband is acting like nothing's happened."_

"_Does he know where I am?"_

"_No. Only I do. Don't worry." _

_Cassandra smiles. "Thank you."_

_After a few moments of silence, Angelika asks, "May I stay in your home for awhile?"_

"_Why?" Cassandra narrows her eyes, suspicious. "What do you need?"_

"_Don't take this the wrong way, please. But in order to help you...you see, this cloak is very vital and...I am not nearly as good as the elders so it will take some time for me to finish. In order for you and your daughter to be safe, I'll need to do the process in your home."_

'Safe...that word has always been used around my daughter.' _She sighs. "Okay. There's an extra room for you in the apartment. But...will you at least tell me why my daughter is being hunted? I can't sleep knowing that she'll be taken from me by your people."_

_Angelika nods hesitantly and then looks at the red cloak in her companion's hands. "It's really beautiful. Better than any of the ones I've seen."_

"_I designed it myself. I just hope that it's not going to be used for...purposes that will get it thrown away or destroyed?"_

"_I think this is a sign of you trusting me more than you think you do," Angelika states with a small smile._

"One day her mother said to her: 'Come, Little Red Riding Hood, here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine; take them to your grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they will do her good. […]" –Little Red Riding Hood (Brothers Grimm, 1697)

* * *

><p><strong>Since this is set in the US, I decided not to have them call their family members in French. Was looking at JGLEllen Page stuff some time ago…can there please be a new movie with the two of them? Or like a fake poster? Banner? Or anything at all? I need them back in my life :'(**

**Also, I'm changing the sequence of the quotes from the story. Instead of putting two a chapter, I'm just gonna put one because I realized that the next lines fits the next chapter more (and I might lose quotes, haha). I'm sorry this is a bit slow but I promise that by the next chapter things will speed up a bit.**


	3. The Murders

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not Inception, not the Red Riding Hood tale.**

**Yay, an update! I'm a bit half-half on this chapter. I like it but at the same time, I felt like it's a bit of a filler even when it's supposedly not (maybe the first scene but the rest, no). I still hope you enjoy it, though! And for those wondering why I'm not using the original Red Riding Hood (by Charles Perrault) it's because Ari would not approve, haha.**

**Thank you so much to followers [JuseaPeterson, Lilacshadows, carameltootsieroll, illyria, kamarooka] and favoriters [kamarooka, JuseaPeterson]! This is also unbeta'd but I gave it a look for editing. All mistakes are mine.**

**Neverlandspirit:** Hi! I have you to thank for being a part of the whole support group. :3 Thank you! And I hope you enjoy this chapter! There's a lot more of the story in here.  
><strong>SiSi4:<strong> Yup, they are! And I cannot wait until they're in the next stage. We can never have enough Eames annoying the hell out of Arthur, haha! Let's be like James and keep it a secret ;] I suppose it adds more mystery since we'll be with her along the way. Thank you! And I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
><strong>JuseaPeterson:<strong> Hahahaha! I'm happy to know that I have your support even with gaps between updating. Thank you! I'm glad you do. I was a little scared since the last chapter was pretty much a flat line for me, hoping this one would give a height. I think I sort of answers those wonders here, but not straight to the point (mystery, really hoping it works). Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
><strong>Kamarooka:<strong> Yes, I love excessive exclamation points! Hihihi. You know I read that line (you know which one I'm talking about) during a very quiet time and there I am suddenly smirking and giggling. And definitely not too early to be inappropriate, let's be as inappropriate as we want ;] I was really hoping you'd say something like that. I agree! But it would be sooo Eames to do so! Oh my, thank you so so so much! Look at that imaginary tiara on my head, hihi. I know! Someone really wants me to continue writing. Thank you, thank you, thank you! And I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
><strong>you know who:<strong> Thank you! Hehehehe. Oops, I just realized I'm supposed to submit by Monday :\  
><strong>D.B: <strong>I judge you right now, Early Bird, I judge you right now. Just kidding! You know I love you. And don't worry, no judging ;] Thanks! I credit ro-little-shop-of-wonders for that, and nope, not from a movie :]

* * *

><p>"[...]. Set out before it gets hot, and when you are going, walk nicely and quietly and do not run off the path, or you may fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother will get nothing; and when you go into her room, don't forget to say, "Good morning", and don't peep into every corner before you do it.'"–Little Red Riding Hood (Brothers Grimm, 1697)<p>

Laughter fills our table as Uncle Dom, Aunt Mal, Grandpa Stephen and our two new neighbors converse. Phillipa is sticking closely to Grandma Jacqueline and occasionally talking to me while James doesn't have a care in the world and continues to eat his burger. The table reserved for us is a rectangular shaped one with Uncle Dom sitting at the head, Aunt Mal on his left and Grandpa Miles beside her, then Grandma Jacqueline and Phillipa. On the other side of Uncle Dom is Eames, Arthur, then me and James.

At one point, Eames looks at Arthur and taps his chin. "Well, well. It was a good idea to come here tonight, you're actually having fun, aren't you?" Arthur just gives him a look. "Oh, Ariadne, love, you seem so quiet. Lighten up, this is your party!"

I smile a little. "I'm listening in."

Eames shakes his head. "Not enough. Please, tell us more about yourself. _Arthur_ and I are _dying_ to know more about you."

"Oh, well," I start, looking down to hide the heat coming from my neck which is creeping to my face, "I...I have one more year of uni and I plan to go to grad school. I'm taking up architecture."

"Really?" Arthur tilts his head.

"Arthur is trained to have a keen eye and a mind that can take in a lot of weight," Eames says, "perhaps the two of you should exchange notes. He's a trained consultant, researcher, security expert and assassin."

James gasps. "You're an asisin, Mr. Arthur?"

"No, James," Arthur glares at Eames and then looks at James, "Mr. Eames was just teasing me. I'm a martial arts expert, though."

"Are you a ninja?"

"He has the moves of a ninja," Eames supplies. "And he's good with weapons."

"_All_ the weapons?" James's eyes widen, his mouth dropping in delight.

"Pretty much, yes," the English man answers, "but he likes to keep that a secret, so shh," he puts his index finger to his lips, "promise not to tell anyone about Mr. Arthur being a very cool superhero, Mr. James?"

James nods enthusiastically before returning to his food.

Arthur glares again at the man beside him but then turns back to me with a softer expression. "I'd like to see some of your designs. Perhaps we can work on it some more."

'_Sure, but your little peek-a-boo still creeps me out,'_ I think. "Yeah, that'd be nice. I need a fresh set of eyes to look at my on-going portfolio. Applications are coming out really soon and if I want to get into that French-based school then I think I'd need some professional help."

"Ecole D'Architecture?" he clarifies. I nod. "Wow."

"She doesn't think her grandfather and I are professional enough," Uncle Dom says, chuckling.

"Yes, Arthur is the most sought out person for anything critical, you two should work together, you'd make a great team," Eames says with a smirk. "He'd like that. You'd like that, won't you, Darling?"

"If you don't mind, Ariadne," is all Arthur says to me. "It's your choice."

"If I find you helpful then why not?" I tell him with a small smile. "I hope your credentials are legitimate," I joke.

He smiles. "Just by looking at the references you'll be having already gives you a good chance in their list. Eames and I know some really good architects and engineers that might help."

"More than you can imagine, Love," Eames says with a wink.

"That's great!" Aunt Mal exclaims. "If our connections are impressive enough, I'm sure yours will be as well."

Arthur gives me another glance before turning back to the adults. "I'd just like to ask, Mr. Miles, if you are _the_ Stephen Miles."

Grandpa chuckles. "I am, dear boy. Have we met before?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Arthur shakes his head, "but my parents hired you to design some buildings when they were just starting. The one in Seattle, the one in Wall Street and the one here in Stone Rose. I'm not sure if you remember them."

"Marvin and Stephanie Brandon," Grandpa starts to nod, "yes, I was wondering why you and your last name are familiar. Yes, I remember designing for them. Kind of made me wonder where they got all the money for three buildings. And one in Wall Street, unbelievable."

Arthur shrugs. "Small businesses here and there."

"Illegal," Eames says.

"No," Arthur snaps. "Legal. Very legal."

* * *

><p>"<em>Hello there, little baby," Angelika whispers, "you're very beautiful, you know that?" She smiles a little. "Of course you do. I'm sure your mother doesn't stop telling you that every chance she can." She sees the baby smile at her. "And what others say when your mother brings you out."<em>

"_But I don't bring her out too much," Cassandra says, appearing from the kitchen and wiping her hands with a towel. "I don't know when I can bring her out without a single worry, Angelika. Your people are still looking for us with no mercy."_

"_They won't hurt you," the blonde says and then softly, "just this little angel."_

"_That's even worse," the red-head sighs. She walks toward the crib and picks up the baby and carries her. "It's been three months but I'm sure they're still looking for me."_

_Angelika strokes the baby's hair. "And I don't blame them." Cassandra glares at the woman and jerks backward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I...Cassandra—"_

"_I think it'd be better if you leave."_

"_I'm here to help you, Cassandra," Angelika reminds her, "I only said that because it's true and they're hurting others…"_

"_Because they want my little angel?" Cassandra continues for her. "I understand that. I understand it perfectly."_

"_You could die, too, Cassandra."_

_The red-head glares at the blonde in front of her, clutching the baby tight against her. "At least my daughter knows I didn't abandon her and that I tried. And the cloak, you said it would help. Or is that a lie to make me trust you?"_

"_I've never lied to you," Angelika says evenly. "And I never meant for you to doubt me."_

_Cassandra kisses the top of her baby's forehead and sighs. "I'm going to run again. Maybe settle down somewhere peaceful. Somewhere far away from Rosenstorgh."_

"_Where will you run, Cassandra?"_

"_I don't...I don't really want to tell anyone, just in case," she admits. Angelika nods, understanding. "I want Cordelia to have a good life. I can't allow her to have a life of being hunted. I just can't."_

"_No mother would want that for their child," Angelika says, "I understand. I really do."_

_Cassandra puts the baby back in her crib. "Will they ever give up?" she whispers._

"_In due time, I suppose," Angelika answers quietly, "but on her twentieth birthday…"_

"_They never told me why they'll take her. They just warned me. Why didn't they just tell me the truth, Angelika? I'm a parent, I'm a mother," she quivers, "they have to understand."_

"_Why did you stay when you knew they were going to take her away from you?" Angelika inquires. "You could still have gotten out of Rosenstorgh."_

_She scoffs, shaking her head, "Marius told me that we'd have to show that we weren't afraid. That we could work it out and our family would be okay. That bastard just wanted us there so they could take her away faster. He's a coward. All he wanted to do was save his ass."_

"_And he had the decency to tell you to try for another child," Angelika laughs without humour, "I hope Cordelia finds someone better than her father."_

_Cassandra gives a tight smile. "And here you are saying that my little angel will live to have her own family."_

_"I think with a mother like you, she has a high chance of living and having her own family. Meet a man who would accept her and won't dare give her away to the people of the village," Angelika says with a smile then turns to the sleeping baby, "She's beautiful, Cassandra."_

_"I know," the red-head grins, "I have to admit that even Marius's genes helped...even if he is a bastard." She pauses. "Um...how is he? Aside from pretending none of this happened?"_

"_Since you two aren't legally married and only married in terms of Rosenstorgh standards, you're free to have a family again, Cassandra."_

"_That doesn't really answer my question, Angelika."_

_The blonde bites her lip. "He's engaged to another woman."_

"_Do I know her?" Cassandra asks, straightening her posture and putting her chin up._

"_I think you do." Angelika hesitates, "Ruffa, do you know her?"_

"_Familiar."_

"_She's the daughter of one of the Elder's. Horatio's daughter."_

"_Oh," she mumbles, "her. Yeah, I remember her. I bet she's ecstatic to be Marius's new wife, isn't she?"_

"_He doesn't love her, neither does she."_

"_I don't care," Cassandra snaps. "She's always fawned over him, telling him that she could have a boy for him after we found out that we were—I was and now have," she immediately corrects, "a wonderful and beautiful baby girl," she coos at the sleeping girl in the crib. "She knew about the curse, didn't she?"_

"_Everyone knew," Angelika whispers._

_The red-head glares at her. "Why does she want to be married to him?"_

"_Famous bloodline, I suppose," the other woman says with a shrug, "family tree."_

"_I've always thought your village people are strange," Cassandra mutters._

_Angelika looks away and then caresses the baby's hair. "I have to go, baby Cordy. I'll check up on you soon, okay?" She bends down to kiss her forehead and then looks at the mother. "I'll be back. Promise to meet up with me more time before you leave, please?" She gives her a pleading look._

_Cassandra nods. "Of course. Take care of yourself, Angelika."_

_"You two take care, all right? Keep her wrapped around the cloak. Your scent isn't strong enough for them to find you. Oh, and one more thing," the blonde reaches for something behind her, handing it to the woman in front of her, she continues, "before I forget."_

_A comb. It's white with red and pink accents with gold engravings. One that says 'Cordelia'._

_"Oh," Cassandra blinks in surprise, "a comb. How lovely. Thank you."_

_Angelika laughs. "It's for protection. See?" She flips it to its side and reveals a dagger blade. "Not just from them...or us, but from the people around us as well."_

_Cassandra smiles. "Thank you, Angelika."_

"_You're welcome." With a nod, she turns away. "Give me a week or two to visit again. If it's past that," she sighs, "leave. It's okay if you don't get to see me, just leave. Protect Cordy. Run as far as you can. Live a good life, okay?"_

_Cassandra nods, understanding. "Goodbye."_

_That was the last time they ever saw each other._

* * *

><p><em>"This just in, in California, a young couple has been brutally murdered. No known suspects yet but the local people are calling it a wild beast attack. This cannot be verified as they two lovebirds were not anywhere near a woody area. We have here a crime photo of the murder. We warn you, this is for the faint of heart."<em>

The picture shows two disfigured bodies, half eaten with both having holes in their chests where their hearts should be.

He turns to the man next to him. "They're quick."

The other man turns around and looks up at the sky. "Why are their birthdays always on a full moon?"

* * *

><p>Phillipa, James and I are on the balcony of Uncle Dom and Aunt Mal's room while all the adults are inside watching television. The moon tonight is full, just like all my other birthdays. The three of us like to look at it and wonder what's in store for me during the year.<p>

"I think you'll meet your prince charming this year, Ari," Phillipa says. She's been telling that for three years. "I'm sure of it this time." And that for the past two.

I shake my head, a small chuckle escaping my lips. "I'll find him when I find him, Phil."

James traces the outline of the moon with his finger. "This year, you will bring me to Disneyland."

Phillipa grins. "I think so, too!"

"I think that can be arranged," I tell them.

Uncle Dom calls us unexpectedly, worry in his voice. We arrive and I see the headline about a couple murdered in California before Aunt Mal switches the channel to FOX Family Movies and the schedule says that Beethoven would be starting soon. "Get comfy," Aunt Mal says, "it's bedtime for the younger ones when the movie is done." Phillipa and James jump on the bed and I follow, lying behind them.

When the film ends, the two are ushered out by Uncle Dom and Aunt Mal while Grandpa, Grandma and I go to our own rooms. There are a series of goodnights as the doors shut one by one. With tomorrow being a Sunday, I plan to wake up late and then start all the work I have to do. It isn't much since I've done most of them yesterday (schoolwork on your birthday? I don't think so).

I turn on my laptop and log into Facebook. I'm not fond of thanking people for greeting me, so about two days before I always make my birthdate private and then turn it back on at night, that way, I'll only be thanking those who actually know me. When I'm logged in, I see a notification for a new friend request from a certain Adam Eames. I accept it and then check out his profile.

He doesn't keep a low profile. He has about two thousand pictures and less than five hundred friends but obviously love him are also active. There's a link to his Twitter, Instagram and even Tumblr accounts. There are a few pictures of Arthur and only two where he's smiling and laughing.

Very attractive. I search his friends and find Arthur's profile. Unsurprisingly, it's private and his profile picture is of him and Eames (where the said owner of the profile isn't even smiling) with only two handfuls of friends. I can't even look at his pictures. "Damn," I mutter. I take a good two minutes of contemplating whether I want to send him a friend request or not. I'm choosing the latter.

Not yet in the mood to sleep, I stare at my homepage before typing 'California couple murdered'. _Okay, brace yourself for some nightmares, Ariadne. _The latest one is from ten minutes ago so I click on it and read.

_A young couple from Los Angeles, California, Marky Frost and Grace Hale, have been murdered by an unknown assailant. The police are trying their best to find the suspect. People are shocked to find the brutality of this double murder. Locals, on the other hand, believe it to be an attack by a beast._

_"We actually believe this to be a copycat," the chief of the town comments, "the M.O. has been used twenty years ago, and we have seen some files wherein the victim's hearts are torn out. But the year gaps are too big for one person alone. Perhaps it's a cult."_

_Another cop adds, "The FBI wants in on this."_

_"We are trying our best to find the criminal," the chief continues._

"A copycat, huh," I mutter.

_Twenty years ago, a young woman, Isabelle Hart, was attacked the exact same way as the couple mentioned above. An older man, Greg Lowry, and a few more bodies that are unidentified due to much disfiguration, were also victims of these kills dubbed as "The Heartless Killings"._

_Are these killings connected? Is it only one person? A cult of followers? A group? Stay in door, folks._

Someone knocks on my door and I allow them in. It's Uncle Dom and Aunt Mal. I smile at them. "It's past midnight, it's not my birthday anymore."

Aunt Mal sits on my bed. "We're just...time flies so fast. One moment we see you on our doorstep and fighting for your rights, the next...you're becoming an adult."

"With a heart of a child," I say, trying not to tear up.

Uncle Dom runs his hands through my hair and I close my eyes and sigh. I've always had a thing for people playing with my hair. When there's time or when I'm stressed, Aunt Mal would put my hair in different variations just because she knows it helps me relax and I love it.

"Why are you looking at the murders?" he asks.

I open my eyes and see that he's looking at the laptop screen. "I didn't have much in my mind and I saw that on TV earlier but didn't get much information." I shrug. "A brutal murder on my birthday kind of interests me."

He chuckles and kisses my temple. "We're just so happy to have you as our daughter. I think it's time you call us Mom and Dad again."

I bite my lip. "You have to remember that it's not because I'm ungrateful," I start as Aunt Mal begins to braid my hair, "you know how much I love you to, but...I guess I'm a little jealous. Phillipa and James have your blood and—"

"It doesn't mean we love you any less," Aunt Mal says.

"I know." I smile. There's nothing else to say. I've talked to them about this before and I've told them that I will call them Mom and Dad again when I'm ready. Once, they asked when ready is and I answered "when I feel it". Although I've never told them the real reason I'm sure they know when the right time really is: when I stop longing for my real family. I personally don't believe that it's fair to call Uncle Dom and Aunt Mal my parents when a part of still can't fathom that my mother and father gave me up, even if it isn't fair to the two people who are raising me as their own. I have a feeling that they've already tattooed in their minds that I am their biological daughter. When I was left behind they were trying so hard to have a baby. I've told everyone that I don't mind and I don't consider my biological parents at all, I'm lying to them and myself.

There's a ding coming from my laptop and I have a Skype notification from my best friend, Valeria Normandeau.

"I think this means it's time for us to leave," Uncle Dom says and then kisses my temple. "Happy Birthday, Ari."

Aunt Mal does the same. "We love you so much."

I give them both goodnight hugs and then they leave me alone in my room before I resume to focus on the gadget beside me.

_**valnorm: Okay, time to spill what happened this afternoon and during dinner, birthday girl.**_

_**aricobb: Talk. Talk. Talk. Talk. That's it.**_

_**valnorm: I don't believe it.**_

_**aricobb: :P Would you like to get in the boring details of business talk?**_

_**valnorm: No. :|**_

As we continue to chat during the wee hours of the morning, I can't help but shudder whenever I remember the last few lines of the article before Uncle Dom and Aunt Mal came in.

_The very gruesome detail of this murder is that the victims' hearts are gone. We know that there is a hole where the vital organ should be, however, we don't know what the killer has done to it. Officer Ludwig has given us some of the theories that were formed during the past years. "Perhaps a trophy, a sacrifice...or food."_

"'I will take great care,' said Little Red Riding Hood to her mother, and gave her hand on it." –Little Red Riding Hood (Brothers Grimm, 1697)

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><p><strong>I realized my chapters all start with 'The' and I really didn't mean for that to happen (and it's kinda annoying me, haha). I just wanted to point that out because it wasn't my intention to do so. And yes, there are some questions that are left unanswered (i.e. how Cassandra got her baby back) but don't worry, I'll be answering them. It may not be soon but I will, I promise. :]<strong>

**I hope everyone is enjoying this! I know I am. Didn't know I'd have this much inspiration or want to continue writing as much as I am right now. Please leave a review to let me know if I'm heading in the right direction or not, I'd love to know what you're thinking.**


	4. Hunting Season Has Begun

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Sorry for the late update! I've been so inspired to write other stories and this one, too, but whenever I open the document it never starts writing again. : And also, I've been quite busy. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine! And this chapter is dedicated to kamarooka (birthday gift part 2!). I hope the mystery I've put in is good?**

**SiSi4: **Yay! I'm glad I'm heading in the right direction. Oh yes, they will be very soon. Did it? :( Aww. Well, I'm going to write some more of them soon, I also enjoy writing them. I'm excited to write about it. I did? :O I achieved something scary! Haha! I'm so sorry for the late update but I hope that you enjoy this chapter!**  
>Carameltootsieroll: <strong>Yay! I'm glad you do! I love it, too, haha! I guess I just combined stuff that I love? Hehehe. And maybe them in veils won't be looking for me anymore, haha! Oh, thank goodness. I changed them. YES. I will tell you. YES. I'm glad that you love this fic, and I'm so glad that you're excited! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**  
>Kamarooka: <strong>Not much inappropriateness here but I still hope you enjoy it! Cassandra and Cordelia might confuse things more but that's what I hope to achieve? Arthur and Eames, oh my, they make my heart flutter, too! Ooh, please share with me some of your guesses! I'd love to know! Thank you so so much! I hope you enjoy this super late part 2 gift!**  
>JuseaPeterson: <strong>I love it, too! I didn't put any in this chapter, sadly. It's so Arthur, haha. If he had it his way he wouldn't even have a Facebook! Dom and Mal are such sweet parents, I think that if Mal hadn't died, they'd probably be the best parents. Thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I hope you enjoy this chapter, too!

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><p><span><strong>Hunting Season Has Begun<strong>

"_They know where you are." The note says. And it's the only thing Cassandra needs to grab all that she can in a bag, get her daughter and rush out the door. "They know where we are," she whispers to Cordelia, "we're going to a place where we'll be safe."_

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><p>The news about The Heartless Killings can be heard everywhere. The radio stations, headlines on papers, whispers in the hallways both by students and professors. Everyone can tell that this is probably the most gruesome murder this town has ever heard of—and it's not even from Stone Rose.<p>

"I can't believe some people are so cruel," Valeria tells me.

I frown. "I know. If looking at the pictures of people we don't even know already triggers us…" I trail off and then shake my head. "I'm a little skeptic about the whole animal thing. I think those are just local urban legends."

My blonde friend shrugs and tosses her hair back. "I dunno. I think it kinda makes sense. What kind of _person_ would do that to another living human being?"

I sigh. "You'll be surprised."

We both shudder and then continue walking around the campus to find a good spot for us to read. We've both got free period and like best friends stuck by the hip we choose to spend it together. While she's a fashion major and I'm an architecture major some people think that our schedules would be all mixed up. But it's hard to change friendship that started in diapers.

There's a bench under a tree and we walk a little faster to get there. When we're settled, she gives me a smirk. I raise an eyebrow at her. "What?" I ask.

"Those two new men neighbors."

"What about them?"

She grins. "I saw you added a new friend on Facebook named Adam Eames and some pictures from your birthday dinner. And I'm going to go straight to the point. You've got two hot neighbors living right beside you and you're not doing anything about it."

I shake my head. "What would I do about it?"

"Have them wrapped around your little finger!" she exclaims. "Have them do your bidding!"

"Have them become my slaves, you mean?" I laugh. "No thanks. I'd rather not scare new neighbors. Besides, they're great. Eames is really funny and Arthur...is...interesting, I suppose. They're really complete opposites of each other, personality wise, I mean."

"How about _physical_ wise?"

"You're impossible," I tell her, but another laugh erupts from my throat. "I'd...go with Eames, honestly. He has that whole gruff look working for him."

"But you have a crush on Arthur."

I frown. "I don't."

"Oh yes, you do. Don't hide it from me."

"I'm not hiding anything from you."

"So you're hiding it from yourself?"

"I'm not," I state. "He's cute, yes, but I don't have a crush on him."

She rolls her eyes. "If you say so." Shrugging, she turns a page of her books and asks, "So aside from my awesome gift," she had given me her own designed and made from scratch Red Riding Hood dress, "what else did you receive?"

I haven't told her what I got that day. It didn't slip my mind while we were chatting on Skype but I just didn't want to talk about it yet. "Uncle Dom and Aunt Mal gave me the belongings that were with me when I was left by their doorstep."

Her face softens. "Anything personal?"

I shake my head. "Just what I was wrapped in, and the backpack that contained a red cloak."

"Red cloak?"

"Mm," I nod, "come over to my house and I'll show it you. I think we can have a costume party later."

She laughs. "Will it look good with my design?"

I pat the bag that she had brought this morning for me. "I'm sure it will."

She smiles. "Great. That way, I can formally meet your new neighbors."

Rolling my eyes, I say, "Oh, God, no, Val. I am not going over to their house to introduce you."

"Am I not special enough?" She pouts.

"You know what I mean," I say.

She laughs. "I do. But you don't have to _purposely_ introduce me to them, right? We can always just bump into them by _accident_, right?"

"What have you got up your sleeve?" I groan.

"We wait until one or both come out of their house and we rush outside and walk by their yard. You wave to him or them and then boom, you introduce us to each other."

"I think that's the only reason you want to come to my house today," I laugh.

"Not true! I want to see if the dress fits and if I have to alter anything." She sticks out her tongue. "I'm not user friendly, Cobb."

"How can I be sure, Normandeau?" I joke.

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><p>"This is so beautiful," I say, as I twirl around. Valeria's dresses never ceases to amaze me. The short, puffy sleeved, white, off the shoulder blouse is under a black corset with a bodice that is tightly wrapped around my torso and shows off my chest (or whatever I have there) and an above-the-knee, red, ruffle skirt over a petticoat. It matches my red coat that I received. "Thank you, Val."<p>

She grins and shrugs. "It's no problem. You know I've been working on it for a while. All we need are shoes."

"Great, we can go shopping. I'll wear it this Halloween, or whenever I can." I continue turning around, checking every angle that I could. I look at her and notice that her grin has turned into a sly one. "What?"

"I have something else."

"You really didn't have to," I say, shaking my head.

"I've been working on this longer."

"Oh. What is it?"

"Promise me you'll find time to where it one day."

"Oh God, what is this?"

She laughs and digs from her bag. "It's a masterpiece. It's my first time making it. And if I'm going to be in the fashion industry then I have to try and be more open-minded, right?"

"Val, what _is_ it?"

She shows me a tiny dress. Tiny as in, revealing and very short dress. Can it even be considered a dress? The colors are exactly the same as the first dress except this time, it's all stuck together. The white only covers my chest with a red bow in the middle, the black corset is red at the tips to create a sort of bow when I tie behind my neck, in the middle is a crisscross pattern with three big, red crosses, and the red skirt has black ruffles along its edges.

"What _is_ that?"

"It's a dress," she tries to convince me. "It' sexy and I think you need it."

"I am not going to wear a sexy Red Riding Hood costume," I tell her. "She's too much of a hero for me to do that."

"Sweetheart, Red Riding Hood is not a hero. Besides, you're not going to live a life without wearing something sexy for Halloween, right?"

"I plan to."

She rolls her "I made it for you, you keep it and I'm sure you'll find the right time to wear it. Just pray that neither Phillipa nor James see it." Her devil smile returns. "Plus, I know exactly who you can use it on."

I frown. "Who?"

"That neighbor of yours." She turns around and looks out the window. "That room. Who owns it? Eames or _Arthur_?"

Looking away and remembering when he was looking out and probably watching my interaction with Uncle Dom and who knows what else, I reply, "Arthur."

"So is that why the blinds were closed when we came in? Don't want him to see you when you wake up in the morning?"

"It's not that…" I mutter, "he was watching me once. I just wanted to make sure he wouldn't do it again."

She turns back at me with a shocked expression. "He was watching you? What were you doing?"

"Nothing," I say. "Maybe it was actually just a coincidence." Ideas come to your mind when you're trying to explain something. Maybe it really was just a coincidence.

"Do you want him to watch you again?"

"No!" Yes.

She rolls her eyes. "Ari, Ari, Ari. You and I both know you do."

I feel my face begin to flush. "Val!"

"Why don't you try walking around in this," she holds up the skimpy outfit, "and see what will happen. Maybe it's better to do it when you family isn't home. You think? Or if you can't wait, maybe he'll invite you over. I'm sure his housemate wouldn't mind."

"Valeria!"

Valeria tumbles on her best friend's bed and collides with some blueprints. "I should have gotten you some folders instead."

"I'm suppose to show those to Arthur."

"Oh are you?" Valeria teases.

"I need his opinions on some of them. I think he can help me get into Ecole, he and Eames have references, or so they say."

"And what gives them the right to say so?"

"They work for Avalanche Corp., and Arthur Brandon is the heir."

"Yummy."

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><p>"<em>In other news, the Heartless Killings is being headed by FBI Special Agent Robert Fischer. For now, Agent Fischer refuses to talk to the media. Agent Browning, FBI's liaison, says that it is far too early to tell what kind of case they are handling."<em>

"Him again?"

"Of course. He wouldn't allow anyone else."

"I don't want to deal with him again."

Arthur smirks. "We both know you love running into him."

Eames gives him the finger. "Darling, if I didn't love you I would've beaten the hell out of you by now. That's a private matter in my life."

"Privacy isn't in your vocabulary."

"Apparently, it's not in yours either. I know that you were spying on Miss Cobb a few days ago." Eames smirks. "And I know it won't be the last."

"I was just looking to see what kind of view I had," he replies.

"And you liked it too much."

"Shut up. We need to figure out how we can re-convince Fischer that we have nothing to do with this."

"Again."

"He's not going to let us off easy this time."

"Do you think he knows about Ariadne?"

"He'll put the pieces together. We can't let him have her." Arthur signs and rubs his temples. "If our hunch is correct and he's working for them...let's just hope that he doesn't get here fast enough. We need Ariadne's trust before he can get to her."

"I've got the perfect way to stall Fischer."

"Does this involve your body?"

Eames grits his teeth. "Give me some credit, Arthur."

"I can never when it comes to you and Fischer."

"There is a veil, Arthur. Besides, I have my eyes on someone else now. And no, it isn't Miss Cobb. I'm quite sure she fancies you anyway." Shrugging, he changes the subject. "Do you think they've given her the cloak?"

"There are some times I can't sense her, so probably, yes."

"And the rest?"

"I'm not sure." Arthur gets up and walks away. "I'll tell you if I have something."

"Planning on stalking, I mean...ahem, researching on her again?" Eames snickers. "Or are you just too excited to start working with her."

"Good night, Mr. Eames."

"I'm driving tomorrow."

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><p>It's eleven in the evening. Line one of Agent Fischer's telephone starts to ring and he picks it up three seconds later. "Fischer," he greets, his pen stuck to his ear and notes scribbled on a piece of paper.<p>

"Well?"

"It's too early, I don't have anything yet."

"I see."

"I'll get her, don't worry."

"Is there anything in the way?"

"Probably just Eames and Arthur."

"I see. They're not trustworthy."

"Neither are we."

The other person on the line laughs. "This is why I trust you'd get her, Robert."

"And I will get her, I promise."

Someone drops a file on his desk. Browning tells him that there's been another murder. "You want the case, you're going to have to work."

Fischer flips through the folder. "I have to go. I'll talk to you as soon as I get anything. But I highly doubt you won't call again tomorrow."

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><p>Cozy Pebble is one of the safest places in Stone Rose City and he can't be any happier to leave her in the care of the lovely couple. He sniffs the air and rushes to the nearby oak tree to watch her getting ready for bed. "I'll keep you safe."<p>

He knows he can't be here. Him being here could put her in danger. In the other house he sees Eames and Arthur. He doesn't like them. He doesn't trust them. But for now, he'll have to live with them until they actually try something.

How they, or anyone else for that matter, found out about her he still hasn't figured out.

"The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the village, and just as Little Red Riding Hood entered the wood [...]." -Little Red Riding Hood (Brother's Grimm, 1697)

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><p><strong>So the whole in denial thing is based on personal experience, haha. And yes, there are now three different groups, actually, four but that's up to you to figure out for now, that have Ariadne as their priority and I will give you all the freedom to tell me who you think is there for Ari or not.<strong>

**Please tell me what you think of it and if I should do anything to improve. :]**


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